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Malak Mattar
I couldn’t see colors anymore
CÉLINE: Where are you now? In which part of the world?
MALAK: I live in London now.
CÉLINE: How was your show?
MALAK: It was a group show with other artists, mostly Turkish and Lebanese. It was a really fun experience. The theme was about home and belonging.
CÉLINE: I wanted to ask you, in your work, there is a palpable sense of home, of belonging. As a Palestinian artist, how do you navigate the line between your personal and the political in your paintings?
MALAK: I don’t feel like there’s anything to align between the personal and the political, because everything I do, whether I like it or not, is political, but I always make sure that it reflects my own personal thoughts, my personal feelings, my family, everything in my present life…
CÉLINE: Your art has traveled beyond Gaza; it’s reaching international audiences. What does it mean for you to share your art with the rest of the world, to share how it has been for you as a Palestinian person?
MALAK: It feels like a beauty being postponed, and it’s like growing up.
You grow up as an artist, and you’re given this title, not only as an artist, but as a voice.
Every time I speak to my family back home, it’s like, what are you working on? Are you producing paintings? Can you share our struggle? Can you share what we are going through? Can you make our voices heard? When my work reaches beyond my studio, it feels like I’m doing what I can, I’m fulfilling my role as a creative.
CÉLINE: Do you feel like it is your responsibility as an artist to carry the voices and the stories of your people?
MALAK: Absolutely. Throughout our history, art has always reflected and documented the political struggle, starting with artists who painted the Nakba, painted their personal stories in 1948 when they were displaced. I found, while growing up in Palestine, an art scene that was blooming and expanding despite the restrictions [by the Occupation] on art materials. Artists have always been very resilient… making alternatives to paints, by using natural pigments, alternatives to canvas, by using other paper, and other materials. Every time art supplies were banned or restricted, artists came up with alternatives. Creation is urgent in the context of Palestine.
CÉLINE: Where did you grow up?
MALAK: In Gaza.
CÉLINE: Who are the artists who have inspired you?
MALAK: I was exposed to Western art in my family house: Van Gogh’s flowers, Edgar Degas’ dancers, Leonardo DaVinci… I saw these reproductions on the walls growing up. My maternal uncle, Nimit Abu Mazen, is an art professor, but he’s also a multimedia artist. He was born in the ‘50s, and he was a teacher for decades, but it’s important to mention that the United Nations commissioned him to do all the school boards in Arabic. For decades, he worked on that while also teaching. His production was very slow, but his work was very, very beautiful. It focused on women from Palestine… So I grew up in a very artistic household.
CELINE: You mentioned restrictions on canvases. What other things was the Israeli occupation forbidding from entering the Gaza Strip when it comes to art materials?
MALAK: I struggled to find canvases, especially after wars, and it took months, sometimes a year… At times, I actually had to smuggle canvases into Gaza… usually through expats who worked in Jerusalem. They bought canvases and brushes and came to Gaza. They were not checked by the soldiers, so they were able to bring art supplies. And that’s how I used to paint in 2021 because for months after the May attack, art supplies were not allowed entry… The art supply stores were bombed in 2021. There’s one store called Pins and Pens. It was in the very center of the city, and it was demolished. And there’s another art supply store that was also demolished. The destruction of art and culture has been going on for many, many years, not just since October.
CELINE: Why do you think the Israeli occupation is afraid of art?
MALAK: They’re afraid of humanization. I would say it’s not art in particular, but any act of us celebrating or painting or writing and sharing poetry is seen as a threat. When the state is built on the delusion that the Other or the Indigenous doesn’t matter, they are dehumanized.
When the Indigenous are called vulgar and are labeled as terrorists, you strip away their humanity. So, any act of humanization becomes a threat because it radically changes the narrative. These people have artists, artistry, an art scene, and art centers. They celebrate theaters. They have book launches. They have music conservatories. Then, they’re not quite the terrorists that the media has portrayed them as…
CELINE: In your paintings, you often use vivid colors and almost dream-like images. What role does symbolism play in your work? And what do you hope your viewers take away from these images?
MALAK: I started painting in 2014 following the murder of my neighbor. She was standing in front of me, two blocks away, and she was torn into pieces. And growing up in the art environment, I was always painting, but not in a cathartic way and not on a daily basis. But since that time, I was driven by an urgency to make political art. I needed to find a way to survive and to distract myself from what I was seeing. There was destruction, there was blood, there was motherhood under bombardment. Then, I started gaining more attention and a following. This gave me a lot of hope. That my struggle was seen. That there were people who really cared. That gave me a sense of mission.
My work started becoming more a celebration, more beautiful. I celebrated the sun, birds, the flowers, and the beauty of the landscape, which I had enjoyed growing up. But then, after October 7, I stopped using colors. I was like, khallas (in Arabic, primarily means “done,” “finished,” “it’s over,” or “enough,” Google AI). This was beyond my worst expectations. I departed from my older style, which was vivid and beautiful, because I just couldn’t see colors anymore. It’s such a depressing time. I’m now slowly going back to colors, but not with the same sense of joy, because I struggle to find joy when my people are being starved.
CÉLINE: Yeah… what colors are you using now?
MALAK: I am using mostly black and white. There is one I showed from 2021; it’s called You and I, which is like two figures embracing each other. And the rest was work I did recently. One of them is a large painting called Gaza. It’s a Phoenix with other elements.
CÉLINE: What is coming for you in the next few months? Your career as an artist has been blossoming. You just illustrated the book of Francesca Albanese (an Italian legal scholar and expert on human rights who has served as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories since May 1, 2022, Wikipedia). How did that come about? You and Francesca collaborating together, and what’s coming up for you in the next six months?
MALAK: I met Francesca back in 2010. There is a chapter in her book about how we met, about my life story, and our first meeting in London. When exhibition that the school held, and Francesca was visiting. She asked me if I was selling my work. And I was like, no, they’re not for sale. I was very shy, but then a few years later, she discovered my work, and she made the connection that I was the same child she had met back in 2010, and then we met in London. We spoke, I went to her events, and we had dinners together. And, yeah, before the book came about, she said that she would love to have my work on the cover.
CÉLINE: I love that for you. In the face of ongoing displacement and violence in Palestine, how do you see your work being of service… I think you touched on it in the beginning, saying that it’s the humanization. But if you can expand a little bit more on that and tell me how your work is really an instrument of the liberation.
MALAK: Two million people are starving. When I think of that, it makes me feel that I’m not really doing anything, and then I’m dismissive of my work. I’m being honest. I’m just really doing my role as an artist. Yes, I’m part of the culture. But it’s hard for me to say anything when the genocide is still running, when people are really starving. I don’t feel like liberation can happen from London; I don’t think liberation happens from Paris. We’re protesting, and that’s what we should do. It’s an active protest. In this moment of our history, we are in so much pain and so much trauma…
CÉLINE: I also feel like we are not doing anything or enough. Nothing feels enough. How do you feel about that?
MALAK: It sucks. It’s like this feeling of helplessness. But I also don’t blame myself, because I know that it’s bigger than us.
CÉLINE: Did you lose your home?
MALAK: The family house: it has been flattened. My uncle’s collection, the work he collected… it has all been flattened.
CÉLINE: Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How long have you been in London?
MALAK: I left the day before the seventh of October.
CÉLINE: Oh, my God, really? How did you manage to leave?
MALAK: I was doing my Master of Fine Arts in London at Central Saint Martins. And I was supposed to leave in September, and I couldn’t; I went to the border, and they sent me back. They finally let me cross the border on the fifth of October, through Jordan, and then the sixth of October was officially my first day in London.
CÉLINE: And the next day, October 7.
MALAK: I saw the news, and I was like, I’ve got things to do. I’m running late to my class. But then my mom texted me. She said, the minute I left, they bombed my school. Then they started their evacuation journey. The men got separated from the women, and then they all went south. I come from the north, from Gaza City. But they all went south and stayed there for months, and then they managed to leave.
CÉLINE: Now they are gone?
MALAK: Yeah, they are. They left in March 2024, to Egypt for one year, and they came to London just last month. Yes, we are united. And I had to go to the court to bring them here legally, because they were not allowed entry to the UK. Their visas were rejected. So we had to fight for that family reunification.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "Malak Mattar: I couldn’t see colors anymore",
"author" : "Malak Mattar, Céline Semaan",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/malak-mattar",
"date" : "2025-09-08 10:10:59 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/malak-mattar--war-1.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "CÉLINE: Where are you now? In which part of the world?MALAK: I live in London now.CÉLINE: How was your show?MALAK: It was a group show with other artists, mostly Turkish and Lebanese. It was a really fun experience. The theme was about home and belonging.CÉLINE: I wanted to ask you, in your work, there is a palpable sense of home, of belonging. As a Palestinian artist, how do you navigate the line between your personal and the political in your paintings?MALAK: I don’t feel like there’s anything to align between the personal and the political, because everything I do, whether I like it or not, is political, but I always make sure that it reflects my own personal thoughts, my personal feelings, my family, everything in my present life…CÉLINE: Your art has traveled beyond Gaza; it’s reaching international audiences. What does it mean for you to share your art with the rest of the world, to share how it has been for you as a Palestinian person?MALAK: It feels like a beauty being postponed, and it’s like growing up. You grow up as an artist, and you’re given this title, not only as an artist, but as a voice.Every time I speak to my family back home, it’s like, what are you working on? Are you producing paintings? Can you share our struggle? Can you share what we are going through? Can you make our voices heard? When my work reaches beyond my studio, it feels like I’m doing what I can, I’m fulfilling my role as a creative.CÉLINE: Do you feel like it is your responsibility as an artist to carry the voices and the stories of your people?MALAK: Absolutely. Throughout our history, art has always reflected and documented the political struggle, starting with artists who painted the Nakba, painted their personal stories in 1948 when they were displaced. I found, while growing up in Palestine, an art scene that was blooming and expanding despite the restrictions [by the Occupation] on art materials. Artists have always been very resilient… making alternatives to paints, by using natural pigments, alternatives to canvas, by using other paper, and other materials. Every time art supplies were banned or restricted, artists came up with alternatives. Creation is urgent in the context of Palestine.CÉLINE: Where did you grow up?MALAK: In Gaza.CÉLINE: Who are the artists who have inspired you?MALAK: I was exposed to Western art in my family house: Van Gogh’s flowers, Edgar Degas’ dancers, Leonardo DaVinci… I saw these reproductions on the walls growing up. My maternal uncle, Nimit Abu Mazen, is an art professor, but he’s also a multimedia artist. He was born in the ‘50s, and he was a teacher for decades, but it’s important to mention that the United Nations commissioned him to do all the school boards in Arabic. For decades, he worked on that while also teaching. His production was very slow, but his work was very, very beautiful. It focused on women from Palestine… So I grew up in a very artistic household.CELINE: You mentioned restrictions on canvases. What other things was the Israeli occupation forbidding from entering the Gaza Strip when it comes to art materials?MALAK: I struggled to find canvases, especially after wars, and it took months, sometimes a year… At times, I actually had to smuggle canvases into Gaza… usually through expats who worked in Jerusalem. They bought canvases and brushes and came to Gaza. They were not checked by the soldiers, so they were able to bring art supplies. And that’s how I used to paint in 2021 because for months after the May attack, art supplies were not allowed entry… The art supply stores were bombed in 2021. There’s one store called Pins and Pens. It was in the very center of the city, and it was demolished. And there’s another art supply store that was also demolished. The destruction of art and culture has been going on for many, many years, not just since October.CELINE: Why do you think the Israeli occupation is afraid of art?MALAK: They’re afraid of humanization. I would say it’s not art in particular, but any act of us celebrating or painting or writing and sharing poetry is seen as a threat. When the state is built on the delusion that the Other or the Indigenous doesn’t matter, they are dehumanized. When the Indigenous are called vulgar and are labeled as terrorists, you strip away their humanity. So, any act of humanization becomes a threat because it radically changes the narrative. These people have artists, artistry, an art scene, and art centers. They celebrate theaters. They have book launches. They have music conservatories. Then, they’re not quite the terrorists that the media has portrayed them as…CELINE: In your paintings, you often use vivid colors and almost dream-like images. What role does symbolism play in your work? And what do you hope your viewers take away from these images?MALAK: I started painting in 2014 following the murder of my neighbor. She was standing in front of me, two blocks away, and she was torn into pieces. And growing up in the art environment, I was always painting, but not in a cathartic way and not on a daily basis. But since that time, I was driven by an urgency to make political art. I needed to find a way to survive and to distract myself from what I was seeing. There was destruction, there was blood, there was motherhood under bombardment. Then, I started gaining more attention and a following. This gave me a lot of hope. That my struggle was seen. That there were people who really cared. That gave me a sense of mission.My work started becoming more a celebration, more beautiful. I celebrated the sun, birds, the flowers, and the beauty of the landscape, which I had enjoyed growing up. But then, after October 7, I stopped using colors. I was like, khallas (in Arabic, primarily means “done,” “finished,” “it’s over,” or “enough,” Google AI). This was beyond my worst expectations. I departed from my older style, which was vivid and beautiful, because I just couldn’t see colors anymore. It’s such a depressing time. I’m now slowly going back to colors, but not with the same sense of joy, because I struggle to find joy when my people are being starved.CÉLINE: Yeah… what colors are you using now?MALAK: I am using mostly black and white. There is one I showed from 2021; it’s called You and I, which is like two figures embracing each other. And the rest was work I did recently. One of them is a large painting called Gaza. It’s a Phoenix with other elements.CÉLINE: What is coming for you in the next few months? Your career as an artist has been blossoming. You just illustrated the book of Francesca Albanese (an Italian legal scholar and expert on human rights who has served as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories since May 1, 2022, Wikipedia). How did that come about? You and Francesca collaborating together, and what’s coming up for you in the next six months?MALAK: I met Francesca back in 2010. There is a chapter in her book about how we met, about my life story, and our first meeting in London. When exhibition that the school held, and Francesca was visiting. She asked me if I was selling my work. And I was like, no, they’re not for sale. I was very shy, but then a few years later, she discovered my work, and she made the connection that I was the same child she had met back in 2010, and then we met in London. We spoke, I went to her events, and we had dinners together. And, yeah, before the book came about, she said that she would love to have my work on the cover.CÉLINE: I love that for you. In the face of ongoing displacement and violence in Palestine, how do you see your work being of service… I think you touched on it in the beginning, saying that it’s the humanization. But if you can expand a little bit more on that and tell me how your work is really an instrument of the liberation.MALAK: Two million people are starving. When I think of that, it makes me feel that I’m not really doing anything, and then I’m dismissive of my work. I’m being honest. I’m just really doing my role as an artist. Yes, I’m part of the culture. But it’s hard for me to say anything when the genocide is still running, when people are really starving. I don’t feel like liberation can happen from London; I don’t think liberation happens from Paris. We’re protesting, and that’s what we should do. It’s an active protest. In this moment of our history, we are in so much pain and so much trauma…CÉLINE: I also feel like we are not doing anything or enough. Nothing feels enough. How do you feel about that?MALAK: It sucks. It’s like this feeling of helplessness. But I also don’t blame myself, because I know that it’s bigger than us.CÉLINE: Did you lose your home?MALAK: The family house: it has been flattened. My uncle’s collection, the work he collected… it has all been flattened.CÉLINE: Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How long have you been in London?MALAK: I left the day before the seventh of October.CÉLINE: Oh, my God, really? How did you manage to leave?MALAK: I was doing my Master of Fine Arts in London at Central Saint Martins. And I was supposed to leave in September, and I couldn’t; I went to the border, and they sent me back. They finally let me cross the border on the fifth of October, through Jordan, and then the sixth of October was officially my first day in London.CÉLINE: And the next day, October 7.MALAK: I saw the news, and I was like, I’ve got things to do. I’m running late to my class. But then my mom texted me. She said, the minute I left, they bombed my school. Then they started their evacuation journey. The men got separated from the women, and then they all went south. I come from the north, from Gaza City. But they all went south and stayed there for months, and then they managed to leave.CÉLINE: Now they are gone?MALAK: Yeah, they are. They left in March 2024, to Egypt for one year, and they came to London just last month. Yes, we are united. And I had to go to the court to bring them here legally, because they were not allowed entry to the UK. Their visas were rejected. So we had to fight for that family reunification."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Trump’s attack on Venezuela: An Exemplary Punishment",
"author" : "Simón Rodriguez",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/trumps-attack-on-venezuela-an-exemplary-punishment",
"date" : "2026-01-14 10:13:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Uncle_Sam_Straddles_the_Americas_Cartoon.jpg",
"excerpt" : "After four months of maritime siege in which the US military killed more than 100 people in alleged anti-drug trafficking operations and seized oil tankers, as well as the bombing of a small dock in northwestern Venezuela, Trump launched a large-scale attack and kidnapped de facto ruler Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, who were in Fuerte Tiuna, the country’s main military complex in Caracas.",
"content" : "After four months of maritime siege in which the US military killed more than 100 people in alleged anti-drug trafficking operations and seized oil tankers, as well as the bombing of a small dock in northwestern Venezuela, Trump launched a large-scale attack and kidnapped de facto ruler Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, who were in Fuerte Tiuna, the country’s main military complex in Caracas.The invaders attacked civilian targets such as the port of La Guaira, the Venezuelan Institute for Scientific Research, the Charallave airport, and electrical transmission infrastructure, as well as military installations in Caracas, Maracay, and Higuerote. The preliminary toll is around 80 dead and more than a hundred wounded. The US government claims that it suffered no casualties and that it had the support of infiltrators working for the CIA. This internal collaboration was crucial to the success of the attack.The Venezuelan military defeat has political causes, beyond US technical superiority. Chavismo has prioritized coup-proofing over military effectiveness, going so far as to have one of the highest rates of generals per capita in the world, who have been given control of various economic sectors for cronyism. Furthermore, the government lacks a military strategy for asymmetric resistance to imperialist aggression. During Chávez’s administration, in 2007, there was debate over which military model to adopt. Retired General Müller Rojas criticized the large investments in sophisticated military equipment, proposed by then-Defense Minister Raúl Isaías Baduel, proposing instead a doctrine of popular resistance and asymmetric warfare. Chávez settled the debate in Baduel’s favor, and in the following years, the Venezuelan government spent billions of dollars on arms purchases from Russia and China. This equipment proved useless in the face of the US attack, as the late Müller Rojas predicted, but it was part of the patronage system that enriched the Chavista military. Ironically, Baduel died as a political prisoner in 2021.Corrupt military personnel may be useful for repressing workers, students, or Indigenous peoples, but they can always be bribed. Maduro himself does not seem to have had much confidence in the Venezuelan military, having entrusted his security largely to Cuban military personnel, 32 of whom died in the US attack.Vice President Delcy Rodríguez assumed the interim presidency. She declared a state of emergency to avoid the constitutional requirement to call elections in the event of the head of state’s absence. The US government has stated that, through the continuation of the naval blockade and the threat of a second attack, it hopes to ensure that the Venezuelan government serves US interests. When asked whether they would use this pressure to demand the release of Venezuelan political prisoners, Trump responded emphatically that he is interested in oil, and everything else can wait.The rights of Venezuelans have never interested Trump, as demonstrated not only by his lack of interest in democratic rights in Venezuela, but also by the racist persecution of Venezuelan immigrants in the US, stigmatized by Trump as criminals and mentally ill people allegedly sent by Maduro to “invade” the country, a fascistic discourse endorsed by the Venezuelan right-wing leader María Corina Machado. Thousands of Venezuelans have been deported to Venezuela, while hundreds have been sent to the CECOT, Latin America’s largest torture center, run by the dictatorship of El Salvador, under false accusations of belonging to the Tren de Aragua, a gang classified as a terrorist organization by Trump.Delcy Rodríguez has reportedly already reached an agreement with Trump to deliver between 30 and 50 million barrels of oil. The US government would sell the oil, establishing offshore accounts for this purpose outside the control of its own Treasury Department; part of the petrodollars generated would be used to pay debtors, and payments in kind would be made to the Venezuelan state, including equipment and supplies for oil production itself, as well as food and medicine.This policy bears similarities to the “Oil for food” program applied as part of the sanctions regime of the 1990s against Iraq. That program became a huge source of corruption in the UN. We can expect something similar or worse from Trump’s corrupt government.We are facing a new version of imperialist “gunboat diplomacy” and the methods of the “Roosevelt Corollary,” on which the US based its invasion of Latin American and Caribbean countries in the first half of the 20th century, taking control of their customs, as in the cases of the Dominican Republic, Haiti, and Nicaragua.Rodríguez’s capitulation has been interpreted by some as evidence that her rise to power was agreed with Trump and that she represents a pro-US government. Certainly, Chavismo’s anti-imperialism was always rather performative, with the US maintaining a predominant presence in the oil industry through Chevron, and the US remaining Venezuela’s main trading partner until at least 2023. But diplomatic relations have not been reestablished, and the theft of Venezuelan oil has been enforced through a naval blockade and threats of new attacks, when the possibilities of storing oil on land or in ships off the Venezuelan coast reached their limit and the alternative was to stop production.The regime decided to cooperate with the extortionist Trump, not to resist. The traditional right-wing opposition, which celebrated the January 3 attack (describing it as the beginning of Venezuela’s liberation), welcomes Trump’s measures. Not even Trump’s humiliation of Machado, when he declared she lacked “support” and “respect” within Venezuela, has led Venezuelan Trumpists to regain a modicum of sobriety. Their entire political strategy, after Maduro’s 2024 electoral fraud, has been solely to wait for Trump to hand them power.Trump’s priorities are different, although they could converge in the future with Machado: to distract attention from recently published documents reflecting his friendship with the criminal Jeffrey Epstein; to enhance his foreign policy based on extortion, refuting the Democratic slogan “Trump Always Chickens Out”, and to manage billions of petrodollars at the service of his business circle. And finally, in a more strategic sense, it represents the application of the new National Security doctrine, which gives priority to absolute US control of the hemisphere, expelling its imperialist competitors, China and Russia. Venezuela represented the most vulnerable point in the hemisphere for spectacular and exemplary military action. After the attack on Venezuela, threats against Colombia, Mexico, and even Greenland follow.Chavismo itself largely created its own vulnerability after years of anti-popular and anti-worker policies, such as imposing a minimum wage of less than USD$5 per month, eliminating workers’ freedom of association, persecuting indigenous peoples, defunding public health and education, and forcing the migration of 8 million Venezuelan workers, all while favoring the emergence of a new Bolivarian bourgeoisie through rampant corruption, creating new chasms of social inequality.Until 2015, Chavismo ruled with the support of electoral majorities. After its defeat in that year’s parliamentary elections, it took a dictatorial turn, relying on repression and electoral fraud, while bleeding the economy dry to pay off foreign debt, creating hellish hyperinflation. The economy contracted by around 80% between 2013 and 2021, most of this before US sanctions. The destruction was such that the export of scrap metal, obtained from the dismantling of abandoned industries, became one of Venezuela’s largest exports.It is illustrative to recall the cables from the US embassy in Caracas to the State Department, published by Wikileaks, which asked the Obama administration not to publicly confront Chávez, as this would strengthen him in the context of widespread popular rejection of the US. The current situation is different, with many Venezuelans cynically accepting US domination. Opposing imperialist intervention, on the other hand, does not save dissidents from persecution either. The presidential candidate backed by the Communist Party of Venezuela in 2024, Enrique Márquez, has been in prison for 10 months without formal charges.The humiliation to which the Venezuelan people are subjected today, under the double yoke of a dictatorship and a US siege, is brutal. The policy of aggression against Latin America and the Caribbean, the perceived sphere of US dominance, gains momentum with this attack. A continental response, to defend the possibility of a free and dignified future for Venezuela and for all of Latin America and the Caribbean."
}
,
{
"title" : "A Lone Protester, Rain or Shine: One Man’s Daily Act of Dissent in Japan",
"author" : "Yumiko Sakuma",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/a-lone-protester-rain-or-shine",
"date" : "2026-01-13 10:00:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Lone_Gaza_Japan.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Photographs by Chisato Hikita",
"content" : "Photographs by Chisato HikitaThe way Japan’s grassroots activism has shown up for the people of Palestine has been nothing short of extraordinary. In a country known for its low political engagement, I’ve met countless newly woken activists who not only joined the international movement but have also incorporated direct action into their daily lives through street protests, fundraising events and content creation, writing campaigns, etc. Many of them express frustration that demonstrations in Japan aren’t as large as those abroad, or that their efforts seem to yield little visible change, but their persistence and quiet stubbornness are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.One of the figures who has emerged from this movement is Yusuke Furusawa, who has taken to the streets every single day, seven days a week, for more than two years, usually for an hour or so each time. I came across him on social media and reached out while I was in Tokyo.The day we met was an excruciatingly hot Saturday in July. On my way to meet him near Shinjuku Station, a sprawling terminal of train lines, subways, and shopping complexes, he messaged to say he’d had to relocate because of a nearby Uyoku (right-wing nationalist) presence. As I exited one wing of the station, I passed a large crowd gathered around Uryu Hirano, a young hardline activist who had just lost her bid for a national council seat.Then I found Furusawa, delivering a monologue about what the Palestinian people have been enduring, about the complicity of the Japanese government, and about the tangled relationship between the U.S. military-industrial complex and the Israeli state. He stood in the middle of two opposing streams of foot traffic, turning every few seconds to address people coming from both directions, waving a large flag and holding a sign that read “Stop GAZA Genocide.”In October 2023, he had been home-bound for Covid. “I was frustrated because I wanted to go to the protests but couldn’t. Finally, feeling restless, I eventually stumbled out holding a placard, that’s how it all began. When I thought about how I’ve never really taken any actions on this issue while seeing these terrible situations unfolding every day, I just couldn’t sort out my feelings.”Furusawa makes his living as a prop maker for a broadcasting company while occasionally getting gigs as a theater actor. He wasn’t particularly political until a few years ago when he joined a local grass-roots movement to elect Satoko Kishimoto, an environmental activist and water rights activist who had lived in Belgium, to be Suginami Ward mayor against the pro-business, pro-development incumbent. Especially, he was inspired by the Hitori Gaisen, solo street demonstration, movement which was triggered by one person who decided to campaign by standing quietly on the street with a sign, which spread like a wild fire and resulted in a win by Kishimoto, a move viewed as a victory of the People, who were determined to stop the over development and gentrification.'I’m not really good at group activities, so rallies and marches aren’t really my thing. I get too tired trying too hard to chant or keep up with everyone else.” Previously, he had been suffering from depression. “This has been helpful like as a daily rehabilitation activity.”Thus, he stands alone, daily and consistently. As I watched him speak under the glaring sun, I was struck by how most people don’t even look up, or notice him, seemingly so self-absorbed or focused on where they are going. Occasionally, non-Japanese people stop and take pictures of/with him. While I was there, a mother and a kid from Turkey stopped him to thank him through a translation app on her phone. She had tears in her eyes. Furusawa said he does get yelled at a few times a day and was once even choked by a person who identified as an IDF personnel.This was a few days after July 20th, when Japan had a national council election where more than 8 million people voted for candidates from the Sansei Party, which ran on “Japanese First” platform and a far-right, nationalist political messaging. Furusawa says, a few Japanese people who walk up to him with encouraging signs tend to be ultra nationalists and conservatives. “A lot of times, these guys who say to me ‘you are great for standing against the United States,’ are far right people, which makes me feel defeated.” And there are younger ones who mock him or laugh at him.Do you have an idea as to how long you’d be doing this? I asked him. Furusawa told me about the time an Aljazeela crew came to his apartment to shoot a segment on him. When he told them, “I will stop if Israel stopped bombing Gaza,” the reporter said, “That is how Japanese people forget about the Middle East.” Furusawa thinks about this episode daily. “I realized I hadn’t understood anything at all, and I felt this helplessness like all my actions over the past four months were being erased in an instant. That’s when I made the decision to do it every day. Those words swirled around me daily.”After I came back to New York, I procrastinated writing this story. I tried writing it many times in my head, but between being disappointed in the surge of xenophobia and racism in Japan, dealing with medical issues and being scared as an immigrant, my head was not in the right place to give a proper ending to this story. Then, so called “ceasefire” was announced. I thought of him and reached out.I apologized to him for not writing a story sooner. “I didn’t know how to write the story without glorifying the protest movements.”He told me attacks by people from Israel were happening increasingly, probably like three times more, especially after the UK recognized the state of Palestine. “They come at me with anger. I’ve also met a few people from Palestine thanking me with tears for what I do. I feel l need to keep a distance from these emotions because what I am really protesting against is the illegal occupation and apartheid of Palestine and how we are not really facing it.”He hadn’t stopped his protests, still standing out there every day with a flag and a sign, delivering his monologue. He does so because, for one, he did not trust the “ceasefire,” but also because what he stands against is not just the current wave of assaults, bombing, starvation, etc.“I want to keep going until we seriously tackle the issue, not just go through the superficial motions of Palestine’s state recognition. It isn’t about just stopping the war. It is about getting people to care so that nations collectively help them. I am not talking about months, more like years because it is going to take time.”Lately, after spending an hour on anti-genocide protest, he stands with another sign for 30 minutes or so before he goes home. The sign says “Delusion of Hate.” That is because he thinks Japan’s xenophobia and hatred come from delusions. “A mix of victim mentality and inferiority complex, plus delusions inflated by conspiracy theories that don’t even exist.”That is when I realized what he is really fighting is indifference. He went on, “Some might find my style of protests noisy, annoying, or unpleasant. I want them to reject it. I want to get on their nerves, or talk to their hearts. Maybe that is how we can break through the indifference. That is going to take time, like years of time.”"
}
,
{
"title" : "Sanctions are a Tool of Empire",
"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/sanctions-are-a-tool-of-empire",
"date" : "2026-01-13 08:35:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Sanctions.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Sanctions & Embargoes only Hurt the People",
"content" : "Sanctions & Embargoes only Hurt the PeopleIn light of the economic collapse and ongoing social and political unrest in Venezuela and Iran, we must examine U.S. economic sanctions and how they contribute to and exacerbate these dynamics.Although framed as something much more innocuous or even righteous, sanctions are a form of economic warfare used to enforce U.S. & Western empire.What Sanctions AreSanctions block a country’s sovereign ability to act freely in a global world. They restrict trade, banking, investment, and access to global markets.Despite the myth of “free markets,” sanctions show how capitalism really works: Markets are only free when they serve power.They are usually installed against nations that show signs of independence from US and Western (capitalist) interests, such as any meaningful socialist policies, nationalizing resources or limiting foreign ownership or resources or property.Although the claim is usually around “punishing” a government for human rights abuses, There are plenty of governments that commit egregious human rights abuses that are never sanctioned because of favorable business policies towards US interests (global western capital), The US is itself guilty of grave human rights abuses both at home and abroad, so cannot claim to have any moral authority, and Many of the abuses are either exaggerated, outright fabricated, or are simply scapegoats to cover the real motives. To be clear: this does not excuse human rights abuses by any government, but sanctions are never the answer: they are never driven by a moral imperative, and are never successful in improving the materials conditions of the people of the countries affected.How Sanctions are UsedUS foreign policy uses sanctions as a key part of a familiar playbook: Claim that a government is a “dictatorship” or “threat” to democracy or security Cut the country off from trade and money Cause shortages, inflation, and unemployment People suffer — food, medicine, fuel become scarce Blame the suffering on the government, not the sanctions Further stir up unrest by covert actions on the ground agitating dissent and violence Often, provide material support for right-wing political opposition that favors US intervention and resource privatizationThe goal is pressure, chaos, and instability.The End GoalSanctions are a foundational step in a long-term campaign to destabilize a country or region by creating enough pain to force one of the following outcomes: Install a pro-U.S. government Enable or justify a coup Pave the way for military interventionAll of these are about resource extraction and unfettered access for multinational and Western corporations.Fact 1: Sanctions Don’t WorkSanctions Don’t Achieve Their Stated Political GoalsSince 1970, nearly 90% of sanctions have failed — meaning they did not force the target government to change its behavior or leadership. Report after report show that sanctions don’t produce freedom, democracy or peace, they produce suffering.Fact 2: Sanctions Punish PeopleSanctions Hurt the People, Not LeadersAcross 32 empirical studies*, sanctions were shown to: Increase poverty Increase inequality Increase mortality Worsen human rights outcomesRegional oligarchs and elites adapt, while ordinary people pay the price.Example: IraqIraq (1990s) Sanctions destroyed water, food, and healthcare systems Hundreds of thousands of civilians — many of them children — died as a direct result Saddam Hussein retained power, up until the eventual US invasionSanctions weakened the population, not the ruler.Example: VenezuelaVenezuela (2010s–present) Oil and banking sanctions collapsed imports and currency Medicine and food shortages surged Tens of thousands of excess deaths Massive emigration as millions fled the countryThe government survived. The people suffered. If anything, the sanctions contributed to the rise of the right-wing opposition against the strong socialist base of support.Example: SyriaSyria (2011–present) Sanctions began early in the conflict and intensified economic collapse They worsened shortages, unemployment, and infrastructure failure Economic destabilization deepened social fragmentation and displacementSanctions did not overthrow the government, but they amplified collapse, suffering, and long-term instability, making recovery and reconstruction nearly impossible.Example: IranIran (since 1979, and especially 2018–present) Sanctions targeted oil exports and global banking access Iran was cut off from foreign currency earnings The rial collapsed; inflation surged sharplySanctions directly restrict access to dollars and euros — forcing rapid currency devaluation, import inflation, and rising prices for basics even when goods are technically “allowed.”Inflation hits civilians first.Sanctions are a Tool of EmpireSanctions are a tool of global capitalist imperialism, and movements against US intervention must include a call against sanctions. They do not bring freedom or democracy. They enrich global financial elites, preserve imperial control, and devastate everyday people — again and again."
}
]
}
